


Lost in the Woods

by Weezy815



Category: Jojen reed - Fandom, Jon Snow - Fandom, game of thrones
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 02:16:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7739581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weezy815/pseuds/Weezy815
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl wakes up in Winterfell with no idea who she is or where she comes from. With the help of Jon Snow, Bran Stark, and company, they try to help her remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a test to see if people want to read what I've written than anything else.  
> If you read this before you'll have noticed that the tense changed. I figured it was for the best to change it to third person.

She woke in a bed of straw with her hands in shackles. 

‘Shackles? Where am I?’ she thought. 

"She's awake," a deep voice said quite roughly. "Go and fetch the bastard. He will want to know she has woken.” 

The door reopened quickly to reveal a man dressed in all black filling its frame. The light poured in from behind, showing only a silhouette. Out of fear, she slinked back farther onto the bed hoping to get away from him. He just stood there beaming at her. 

‘Why was he so happy that I was awake?’ 

The worst thought filled her head. 

"I was afraid you had died," he said in a much gentler voice than she had anticipated. He seemed quite relieved to find that she hadn’t. "You hit your head pretty hard." 

No words formed in her head. She knew she should not have been as scared as she was, but she couldn't help it. Even as she sat cowering from him, which felt very unnatural, she could see that she was not in a prison cell, but more of a hospital set up. They, whoever they were, were trying to take care of her. But who were they and why were they taking care of her? 

"Did I?" she asked tenderly touching her head. "I don't remember." 

"With a bump like that, I can't imagine that you would." 

He sat there looking at her with his brown eyes for a long moment before taking a worried seat at the foot of her bed. "Do you… recognize me?" 

His brown eyes bore into her violet ones expectantly, but she had no clue who he was. Slowly, she shook her head. 

"Do you know where you are?" 

She shook her head and a knot formed in her chest. 

"Do you know who you are?" 

Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head no. 

“Do you—” 

"I can't remember who I am!” came the sudden tear filled explosion. She had not meant to cry, but the tears came anyway. 

She cried for what must have been hours, crying about not knowing where she was, who she was with, why she had been running, but he stayed by her side every second. Maybe he felt guilty for being present when she bumped her head or because he was present when she began crying, but regardless of his reasoning, he stayed by her side until she wept herself to sleep. 

Prior to sleep, in the hours spent weeping, she discovered that the boy’s name was Jon Snow. He was the bastard of Eddard Stark of Winterfell and had five half siblings. Robb Start being the oldest, followed by Sansa, Arya, Bran, and Rickon. 

She also discovered that she had hit her head three days prior and had been unconscious ever since. 

Despite being highly distressed, she could tell he was keeping something form her. She also realized that it was absolutely freezing in Winterfell. 

.. .. ..

She didn’t see Jon for the next three days. The girl didn’t see him mostly because the doctor at Winterfell kept him out in order to conduct tests upon her. He was trying to find out why she had absolutely no memories from before three days prior. 

On the fifth day, she woke to find a red dress sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. It sat there glowing at her as if smiling. It was trying to remind her of something she couldn't remember. 

The doctor had said that she was fit to roam the castle as she desired and that the rest of the family would be delighted to meet her, but she was hesitant to meet any new people. 

‘What would I say to them? Hello, my name is unknown and I have no recollection of who I am. How are you today? That was not a good way to meet someone. How many of them already know who I am? How many did I know before?’ 

After dressing, the girl made her way through the halls silently to find the Stark family at the breakfast table. Considering that she hadn’t met them in person, she was going off of Jon’s descriptions of each of them. 

A deep sinking feeling filled her stomach at the sight of them smiling especially Jon nudging his brother. It arose a feeling she could not name. 

She didn't duck away quickly enough because he met her eyes. The joyful expression on his face fell immediately the second he saw her disappear down the hallway. 

"Where are you going?" he shouted, after chasing her down the hall. "Come back, please." 

"Leave me alone," she cried. "Please. I don't want to ruin your breakfast." 

"It already was," he smiled at her. "Besides, I'll be able to have breakfast with them tomorrow and the next day." 

Pain filled her stomach at his words. "That may be true, but what if you forget them?" 

His silence wasn't reassuring but his eyes were kind. 

"Steward," he called. "Please fetch us something to eat from the kitchen. We'll be dining in the guest room." 

"No, don't--" 

"You dare defy a lord?" he asked mockingly as he smiled and escorted the girl back to her room. 

She truly appreciated that he didn't make her dine with the others. The second they saw her they would want to know who she was, what her name was and where she came from. Questions she couldn't answer. Questions she hadn’t been able to answer for a week. 

A knock came from the door causing the girl to jump. 

“Who is it?” Jon asked the door. 

“Who else would it be,” a young girl’s voice spoke, muffled by the wood. “Now let me in.” 

His eyes were soft. “That’s my sister Arya. Do you mind if she joins us? She is not going to make you feel uncomfortable.” 

She shook her head and Arya entered. They were introduced and back stories were exchanged and Arya absorbed every word of it. 

"I cannot say I have ever lost my memory," Jon spoke between bites. "But I can't imagine you want many people knowing." 

It amazed her how right he was. It was almost as if he knew exactly what she was feeling. 

"It's humiliating knowing people want answers and you have nothing to tell them. What I do know is that it is wretchedly cold up here." 

Arya belted out a laugh as only she could. 

Jon smiled as Arya fetched her a blanket from the wardrobe in the room. 

"I do not appreciate being laughed at,” she jested lightly, all ready beginning to feel more comfortable. 

“I am smiling because we know one thing now. You are not from the north." 

"No. I most certainly am not. I must live where the sun always shines and no one is cold." 

"You must be from the south then,” Arya said. 

"Yes," she smiled. "The south." 

If what she was feeling was nothing other than a feeling, then that was fine with her. It was more than what she felt this morning. It was a starting point in remembering who she was and where she came from. 

"If you came from the south, then what were you doing this far north I wonder?" Arya asked aloud. 

"I don't know." 

"Maybe you were vacationing up north." 

"Why would I vacation up north when I am from the south? The different temperatures alone are vast and uncomfortable." 

The blanket was warm around her shoulders. 

“Where is your cloak?” Arya asked. 

She shrugged her shoulders. “I do not think I own one.” 

“Why not?” 

“Arya,” Jon scolded. “Calm yourself. I will see that we find one for you to stay warm.” 

“Thank you.” 

They ate the remainder of the meal in silence and he added more from his plate to Arya’s and hers when they finished eating. Not really table worthy manners, but still classier than eating alone or nothing at all. It also didn't waste food which was still edible. 

"My brothers and I are going out later today if you would like to join us. It’s just going to be a walk in the woods. No wandering eyes.” 

She nodded. "I would like that very much. Thank you." 

.. .. ..

Arya and Rickon stayed close to her side as she went around meeting the rest of the Stark children. It did not escape her attention that all the men carried weapons on their hips. 

“Should I be expecting animals on this walk?” she asked, getting smiles from the rest. 

Robb was the first to respond. “Hopefully not, but these are in case of animals or Wildlings.” 

“People from beyond the wall,” Jon answered her confused look. 

Along the walk, she learned about the Winterfell castle being built upon a hot spring to keep the walls warm during the winter. She learned that the second youngest boy was an enthusiastic climber, the eldest daughter was outstanding at anything lady like while Arya struggled to wrap her hair properly. 

The deeper the small group went into the woods, the more uneasy she began to feel. 

“Look what I found!” Arya cheered. 

“Whatever it is, don’t touch it,” Robb ordered her getting Jon to laugh. 

At the base of a tree, they found a bow with some scattered arrows. Seeing as she was among the older people in the group, she was given the bow to carry and it felt strangely familiar in her hands and slung over her shoulder. 

Rickon had taken her hand while they continued deeper into the woods and across the path of several wildlings. 

“Give us everythin’ you’ve got an’ we’ll let you live,” one of them snarled through crooked teeth. 

Robb drew his sword and held it before him. “And if we don’t?” 

“Then we’ll just ‘ave to kill ya.” 

"Step anywhere near us and it'll be the last thing you do,” Jon spat at them before turning to her. "You know how to use it?" She knew he meant the bow. 

One of the thieves took his chance to lunge for them and in one movement, she pushed Rickon behind her, drew the bow from her back, and launched an arrow into the wilding's calf and drew two more arrows, knocking the first one. A second wildling tried to reach for Arya and she shot them in the arm. From behind, another tried to attack and the arrow missed his arm and burrowed deep into his chest killing him instantly. 

‘Oh, no,’ she thought. ‘How did I know how to do this?’ Like it was a hot stone plucked from the fire, she dropped the bow and sprinted away from everyone dead, alive, and injured and into the woods. Shooting those people so naturally had frightened her causing her to flee. She learned one thing from the incident, that she had never killed a man before because the pain tearing through her would have been something unforgettable.  

Giant arms wrapped around her bringing her to an immediate halt. 

"How did you do that?" Arya asked bewildered. 

Jon retorted quickly. "Not now, Arya.” 

"But she just wiped out three--" 

"Not now, Arya!” 

The castle guards were there quickly enough to grab the wildlings and do away with them. 

"How did you do that?" Jon asked. 

"I don't know," she trembled frightened of what she would do next. 

"You've grown pale," Robb commented concerned. “Come, we will return with the rest.” He said taking my elbow. 

Behind him, Jon collected Rickon and Arya and all of them returned to the castle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you made it from chapter 1 to chapter 2, let me thank you. Thank you. I'm glad what I wrote was at east entertaining enough for you to check out the next chapter.

"Is this the girl?" the black haired boy asked when he entered the library where she found herself with Robb and Jon reading about lands from the south hoping to find her home. 

"Yes," Robb answered from her right. “Shouldn’t you be shooting?” 

Word had already traveled about the incident in the woods in under two hours. 

“Shooting is boring. Is it true that you shot down three men without even faltering?" he asked her wide eyed with wonder. 

She nodded. 

"Come sit. Please,” Jon spoke sarcastically after Bran, the remaining Stark boy she had not met, plopped himself down on top of the table where they read through books. “I thought you just said shooting was boring?” 

"My name's Brandon, but everybody calls me Bran. What's your name? I would like to thank you properly for saving the life of my brothers and sister." 

Even before he asked, the three of them knew he would ask that question. Jon was trying to formulate a lie when she spoke up. 

"I don't know, My Lord," she smiled at him. "Your brother Jon and your ward Greyjoy found me in the woods a few days back and I bumped my head. I woke up and I can't remember a thing. My name. What I can do. My family or where I'm from. If I'm engaged. If I’m married. Nothing. All I’ve got is a tattered yellow silk dress that, if I am correct, has since been thrown away and this dragon ring. Today when I picked up the bow and arrow, it merely felt comfortable. I recognized the feel but not the style and weight. Shooting those men was the first thing that made me remember something, but I've never killed a man before." 

"How dreadful," Bran sighed. "We should give you a name." 

Jon interrupted. “Bran, no." 

"Nonsense. She'll be with us for some time, I can foresee and it makes no sense to not have a name. Do you like flowers?" 

She nodded. He had successfully drawn her attention from the book. 

"Tulip? Pansy? Petunia..." he mumbled under his breath for a couple minutes just naming flowers with Robb and Jon's help. Eventually he settled on one he liked. "Lily," he smiled before shaking his head and continuing to think. After several minutes of thinking some more, he spoke again. 

“What about Seraphim?” he asked. 

A warm feeling that felt similar to seeing a family member smile grew in her stomach and crawled up to her chest providing her with warmth. She was pleased to have a name even thought it was not a flower like he had originally planned. 

"Do you--do you have Violet eyes?" Bran asked her suddenly. The speed with which he changed topics caused her head to spin. 

"Oh," she gasped instantly avoiding all of their eyes. "I think so." She met his eyes and he smiled. 

"You do. What were you doing in the woods alone?" 

"Bran!" Jon scolded him. “Enough.” 

“No, I'm merely wondering why such a pretty girl was out in the woods all alone. There is no shame in denying that she is beautiful and there is no shame in asking." 

A blush rose to her cheeks and she looked down at her book. ”He's right," she answered. "He's curious, but I can't give him an answer. I wonder why I was alone myself." 

"Perhaps you were hunting," Brandon offered. 

"Me? Hunting?" 

"You are quite a beautiful shot," Jon offered. Behind his words, Seraphim could see that he knew something he wasn't going to say in front of his brothers. 

"But I despise taking a life. Of any kind. So I would not be hunting. Besides, we're not allowed to hunt." 

"At least no women here hunt." 

"They seem quite content just crafting all day," Seraphim said before she realized how rude it was. "My apologies." 

"No, don't be sorry. This is something. You say you are not used to crafting, then what do you remember doing? We know you are skilled with a bow and arrow." 

She sighed. "I don't know how to craft as well as the others do, but I do know how to knit and sew and a few other things. I can dance and sword fight I think. Braid hair. Saddle a horse. I caught myself going through the steps in my head when I saw a horse today." 

Robb listed off what they knew so far. "So you come from a warm place in the south with horses and skilled archers and swordsman." 

Bran was the first to speak. "Aren't the Dothraki known for their horses?" 

"Yes. Yes they are." 

"But," Seraphim objected. "They are also known for their brute strength and fancy tattoos. I have neither." She wondered how she could remember the Dothraki and not even remember her own name. ‘Must be the books I’m reading,’ she thought. 

"But they also have long hair and you have that." 

"But it is not brown,” she said holding her long blonde, almost silver hair out to see. 

"Mm," Bran sighed. "You're right." 

“Maybe you’re a Targaryen,” Robb offered lightly. “No, you’re too sane to be a Targaryen.” 

Jon who had been silent for most of the exchange finally spoke up. "You're from Dorne. You’re clearly used to hot weather and Dorne is a desert which is the hottest place I can think of. Your clothes were also reflective of warmer weather, but yet you still wore a coat. You do not look like a Dornishman, but that’s our only other option.” 

Bran’s face lit up as he saw some memories come back to her. “There was a comet that flew over head wasn’t there?” he asked eagerly. The random question must have come from a story his wet nurse told him. 

Immediate recognition washed through her at the name as she tapped the boy’s knee like a giddy child. “That’s—that's my home,” she sighed. "I'm from Dorne. One night, a bright light came down from the heavens and I ran out to see it. That is—that’s when my hair turned white and my eyes turned Violet. That is the earliest memory I have. I’m from Dorne,” she smiled. Her smile quickly turned into a frown. “What am I doing all the way up here?” 

The boy leapt across the table and wrapped her into a tight hug not hearing her last question and she hugged him back. 

“Now that we know where you come from, we can send word home and have someone come pick you up,” Robb offered. 

“Yes,” she smiled still hugging the boy. She knew where home was, but not who she was or who he parents were. One door was opened, but many more shut. 

.. .. ..

 

The crow had left the castle with a note attached to its foot months ago and there had been no reply or any more progress made on who Seraphim was or what her real name was. It was like she was completely invisible. 

In the months since she had arrived at Winterfell, she found that the people she felt most comfortable speaking with were Bran, Arya, Hodor, and Jon. Seraphim could feel that they just wanted to protect her which made her feel guilty for needing protecting. Robb and Sansa were good people, but seemed more focused on other tasks and Rickon was every ounce a child just looking for the next adventure in which he could take part. Ned Stark checked on her wellbeing from time to time, but he seemed to trust his children to be good guardians. 

Catelyn on the other hand, only seemed to appear when Jon had disappeared. It was like she always knew where he was and made notion not to be there. So Seraphim only ever saw her when she was with Bran, Hodor, or Arya. Catelyn did not seem bitter towards the girl, just unsure. It probably didn’t help that she spent so much time with the child she despised the most. 

Theon was another resident that Seraphim avoided when she could because every time she saw him, he would always flash her a glance suggesting something vulgar. 

Driven almost mad by not knowing who she was, Seraphim finally approached Jon and asked him something that had been on her mind since the day she arrived. 

“Where…where did you find me?" Seraphim asked Jon after they had spent several hours practicing the art of sword play in secret. A woman knowing how to use a weapon was untraditional, but he knew it brought her comfort so he taught her himself. She had to admit that he was quite good and a wonderful teacher. 

He avoided her eyes. "I knew you would ask this and I thought you would have asked sooner, but I still don't have a good lie. Come with me." 

They rode out into the woods to a place where boulders were large and protruding from the ground. 

“Here is where we found you,” he said quietly. 

She asked quickly. "Was I alone?" 

“No. A man claiming you to be his ward was trying to take you home with him." 

A rock fell in the pit of Seraphim’s stomach. This was a lie. She just knew it. Blood stained the rocks where she had fallen and her nimble fingers found the wound on her head. 

"Come on," Jon said, offering her his outstretched hand. "Let's return before dark." 

“Ok,” she said softly before taking his arm. 

There was more she wanted to ask, but now was not the time, nor did she have the strength to ask. 

.. .. ..

 

"Well, I do believe it is time to say good night," Jon smiled at her. 

"Yes. I wanted to thank you for all of your help today. It's nice having something to hold onto. Something to remember." 

She didn't know why she enjoyed his company so much or if it was just the presence of the Stark children in general, but they all made her feel welcome and loved. 

With what little she could remember, she couldn't picture a time where a family or friends were so deeply needed in her life and there they were taking her under their wing in her most vulnerable moment. She was like a newborn infant seeing the world with fresh eyes. A stranger in the world without any knowledge of why she knew the things she knew. 

It must have been a long moment of silence before he decided to break it by speaking. 

"If you ever need help or feel scared or lonely or in danger... If you need anything… just light a candle and place it in your window," Jon Snow told her. "Someone will come." 

"Couldn't I just ask the staff?" 

He smiled through his thin beard knowing her own answer. He knew Seraphim was too shy and embarrassed to ask for help from anyone she didn't already know. 

"Just light a candle and someone will come." 

"Will it be you?" she asked before thinking, immediately regretting her words. 

"Someone will come. Goodnight." 

"Good night, Jon," she said pitifully to his back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read this mess that needs more planning and organization.

Several months later, after many more secret self defense practices with Jon, she found myself lighting a candle and placing it in the window of the room adjacent to the youngest Stark children. 

It took far too long to light the wick but she never remembered the wick catching a flame. What she did remember was hearing a faint knock at the door. She heard it, but didn't act. Everything was in a haze. Nothing cleared until hands took her arms. 

"What's wrong?" Jon asked. Worry was woven into his face like a design on a tapestry. "You lit the candle..." 

"Some--something is going to happen." Seraphim’s tone was borderline mental patient. She must have sounded like someone who needed to be in a hospital under constant supervision, but he didn't question it. She continued to pace around the room, unable to shake the feeling that consumed her body. Something bad was going to happen. 

Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he forced her to slow her breathing. He also noticed how she seemed to glow in the dim room. He decided it must be light reflecting off the candle in the window. 

"Technically," he spoke softly. "Something happens every day." 

"Something bad," she spoke into his chest. "I don't know what...but I have this horrible sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach so strong it is keeping me from eating or even thinking about food. I think someone is coming…for me.” 

Halfway through the explanation, she broke free from his arms and resumed pacing back and forth across the room. 

He chuckled. "I didn't think you'd light a candle so soon if at all, but this seems to be..." 

She met his eyes. He wished to say it was silly but knew it was not silly to her. It was just a feeling but it was keeping her from thinking of anything else. "No, you are right. I am sorry I woke you." 

He insisted that she eat something and she did so he would return to his room and leave her to my thoughts. 

.. .. .. 

 

The next afternoon, a deep voice spilled in through her bedroom window drawing her attention outside to the bustling courtyard. 

"I hear word of a woman stumbling into your woods claiming memory loss?” the man asked another man at the gate to the castle. It so happened that the man he spoke to was Ned. 

"Yes, she has been with us for several months now…almost a year actually,” Ned spoke. “Her memory is coming back in chunks. She is healthy." 

Seraphim dashed down the hall to the window at the end in order to better overhear their conversation. 

"We are engaged and I have been sent to collect her,” the man said. “My name is Balor Da.” 

The name echoed in her ears, but she did not feel overjoyed like she hoped at meeting someone who knew her. She was consumed by fear. 

Somehow this man tugged at a memory but there was no love when she saw him, only pain and sadness and fear. 

“There is no way I am engaged to him,’ she thought. 

Fear traveled through her veins at the sight of Balor and she knew that if she left with him, she would never see Winterfell or her family again. 

"Jon," she took his arm when he strolled by. 

He saw the fear on her face. “Seraphim, what’s wrong?” 

"Some man is here claiming to know me,” she spoke slowly in a hushed voice. “He says his name is Balor Da, but I know it is a lie. I recognize him but I do not trust him." 

Jon reassured her. "Don't worry. We will watch over you." By we, she knew he meant all of the Stark family and the people in Winterfell. It was not a half hearted attempt to make her feel safe because she knew his words were true. 

Jon remembered the bruises on her wrists when she arrived here and nodded. The bruises had been there for at least a month after she arrived but no one in this castle had given them to her. Jon knew how they got there but said nothing. Now a stranger she didn't trust showed up at the gates claiming to know her. 

"Lie to him. Tell him that—that I have to be kept here because you don't know for sure that I know him. Please just don’t—don’t let him leave with me." 

It was hard to say whether or not he nodded because she asked him or if he was genuinely going to interrogate this guy before sending anyone out with him. 

Jon took his father aside and they spoke in hushed voices for several minutes before facing the man once more. 

“Like my son here just informed me, if you truly are the one intended for her hand in marriage, then you would not mind by providing us with some information to prove it.” 

His answer felt too quick. "Her name is Misty of Dorne and she is the youngest of five children. She has four older brothers who are destined to be lords. In order to unite our houses, we have been promised to each other." 

“I am not saying that you are incorrect…” Jon spoke, taking a step forward. "But we do not know you at all. It would be most unwise to hand her off to a stranger to both her and us." 

He glanced at the mud beneath his feet. "I understand. You say she has lost her memories so would she even remember me?” 

“Again that I cannot say, but some memories are coming back.” 

"Now if you can prove that she is from your homeland then we would be happy to send her home," Ned spoke. "If you could bring her mother or father than that would be more then enough conformation for us." 

"She wears a ring…on—on her left left hand. It is a dragon biting its tail with dragon glass eyes." Balor then leaned in and whispered something in their ears that only they could hear. Their expressions changed dramatically when they heard this new bit information. 

"Go find her and see if this is true," Ned ordered Jon. 

Jon ducked inside and took her hands in his. There was a dragon ring biting its tail with dragon glass eyes on her left index finger. It was the only thing she had kept after she woke. 

The fear was evident in her eyes when she met his deep brown ones. 

Reluctantly, she slid the ring off my finger and handed it to him. ‘This was it. That man outside had the proof and I had to show him. He did know me. I was to return home with him. The only thing I had that connected me to my past was going to get me killed.’ 

"Thank you for everything. I won't forget you, Jon Snow." 

He checked over his shoulder to look for anyone in the hallway before he placed the ring in his pocket. 

Her breath caught in her throat. 

“I am so sorry you lost your ring,” he said as he ducked back outside to speak with his father and Balor Da. 

“I am sorry, ser, she is not wearing any rings. Nor does she fit your other description. You must be looking for someone else." 

“I am sorry to hear that your search ends here," Ned said hesitant to agree with his son. "My guards can escort you out.” 

“No need,” the man said coldly. “I remember the way.” 

With those final words, he spun on his heels and disappeared. 

.. .. ..

Jon and Ned met with Seraphim in the dining hall shortly after the man left to discuss what had just transpired earlier that afternoon. 

“Hey, Seraphim!” Bran called from the end of the hall. The boy sprinted dow the hall to meet them. “There was some man here looking for you earlier today. Did you know?” 

“Did you tell him anything?” Jon questioned his younger brother sternly. “What did you say to him?” 

Bran shook off his brother’s hand. “I told him that he should do what he had been doing. Leaving.” 

Jon sighed, relieved. 

"Would somebody please tell me why my own wife and the rest of my children are lying for you," Ned commanded Seraphim. “Catelyn said that same man approached her on her walk asking about you. She also avoided tell him him the truth.” 

"She doesn't trust him, father," Jon said, jumping to her rescue. "She trusts us and does not know us. She says she knows that man today but does not remember why she dislikes him. She came to us with bruises up and down her arms...I couldn't send her back with him. We don't know him. He also came alone. If she is a part of a royal family, there would have been more people.” 

"We don't know her,” Ned said sternly. “This true, girl? Did you recognize him?” 

She nodded. "He was right about the ring. I did have one like it, but it is gone now. I must have lost it." She took great care in avoiding Jon's eyes when she said that. It was best not to draw attention to him and the missing ring. "Pardon me for saying, but I am glad it's lost. I do not wish to return with Balor Da." 

Another thought occurred to her and she shook his hand. "Do you remember the size of his hand compared to yours?" 

"Yes, I suppose." 

In response, she placed his hand over the areas where the bruises had been on her forearm. There he compared the size of the bruises to the size of his hand. ‘That man outside had grabbed me for some reason and now he wanted to whisk me to an unknown destination.’ 

“Well, he may return soon enough. And with your parents. Then you will have to return with him.” 

Her heart sank the tiniest bit at hearing those words. “He whispered something to you that made both of your eyes widen,” She said looking at Jon and Ned. “What was it?” 

Ned cast a questioning look to his son before speaking. “He said that you glow.” 

“Violet eyes and she glows!” Bran jumped up and down. “I told you she was pretty,” he spoke to Jon who hushed him. 

“When I heard him say it, I realized he was true. He was talking about you today, not someone else,” Jon said. When she lit the candle in the window, she remembered Jon looking far too bright in the dim light. ‘That had been my doing?’ 

‘So I’m a glowing bride, the youngest of five, and I live in Dorne,’ she thought. ‘This family has sheltered, fed, and clothed me for the better part of a year. Now a man who knows me shows up on their doorstep and they make him leave. They want an answer.’ 

”My Lord, have you ever had that feeling deep in the pit of your stomach that twists your insides and almost brings you to the point of vomiting? Or maybe you're someone who clenches his fists in angry silence." 

As Ned traveled his thoughts for one such moment, a shiver ran down his spine. He knew. Then his sorrowful eyes found the scar on her forehead. 

"That is the feeling I get when I look at that man." 

"But why?" 

She sighed. "I can't remember." 

"Is the information he told us correct? Your name and family?" 

“I am fairly certain some of it is, but once again, I can not remember all of it, but if he is in those memories, I don't want to remember them. Having four older brothers would make sense though. They would no doubt pick on me, so I learned to defend myself.” 

Jon wrapped his fingers around her arm bringing the bruises to the forefront of their minds. He was comparing the bruises himself. 

“I am merely examining all options here when I say this, but just how many other men do you think have hands the same size as those bruises? Jon does." 

His hands did match the size of the bruises. 

"But they are not from him," she argued. "No one in this house has tried to hurt me or take advantage of my memory loss and every one of you was a stranger. I know him and don't trust him. Please, do not send for him." 

"We won't," Ned told her. "As of right now we are treating you as if you were one of the Stark children." 

Joy washed over her and she could see Jon was relieved also. 

"Thank you, My Lord. Thank you." 

Tears ran down her face the second he was gone. She didn't even realize she was crying until Jon approached. 

"What's wrong?" 

"I didn't know just how scared I was until right now." 

Bran took her hand in his. “I’ll protect you,” he said with the confidence only young children possessed. “No one will take you away from us without your consent.” 

As she watched Ned depart from the Dining Hall, one thought ran through her head. ‘My name is Misty.’


End file.
